Binubuhay kahit pasaway

I just underwent (today, Oct. 13) a coronary angioplasty with one stent placed on the left anterior descending (LAD) artery. 

An angiogram was recommended by a cardiologist in March after my annual physical exam resulted in a POSITIVE reading for the treadmill test. Since the treadmill is nonspecific and only shows blockage, they need to do an angiogram to determine which blood vessels are blocked. For many years the treadmill test was equivocal (neither positive nor negative) but in January 2026, it became positive. I told the cardio then that I would consider it toward the end of the year after I got back from my already-scheduled trips. I also told myself I would get a second opinion. 

When I got back from Spain (September), the cardio I consulted in March (and since July last year when I was diagnosed with hypertension) was no longer with Medical City Antipolo Clinic so I had to switch to another doc... and he became my second opinion. He saw my treadmill results and the tracings (actual ECG reading during the treadmill test) and agreed that I should undergo the procedure.

The angiogram showed 80% block of the LAD while right and left coronary arteries were clear. It is a miracle that all this time I was able to play pickleball every Saturday, and walk regularly (recently finishing the last 119km of the Camino de Santiago Portuguese route), without chest pain, shortness of breath, nor difficulty breathing.

Doc said we just prevented a heart attack. 

Grateful for the Lord's deliverance yet again. Binubuhay kahit pasaway. When I had my second breast cancer (2021), I kinda felt that I was God's favorite. Today He kinda confirmed it.

Salamat, Lord

I mark my 22nd anniversary as a cancer survivor today (August 30). It so happened that it is also the 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time.

Spent the day traveling by train from Santiago, where we had just completed 119km of walking the Way of St. James from Tui on Friday, to Madrid, to Alicante, to Elche, where lovely daughter lives and works.

The Lord has truly been gracious to this woman of little faith, who thought she would not live after being diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer (it spread to the bone and lymph nodes).

Indeed, as Jesus says in today's gospel, 'You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do.' For when I thought I was at my end, He made a path for me to continue.

Every single day is a gift, new and undeserved. Relying solely on God's mercy, I wander about knowing only love (not purpose, but love).

The priest at St. James Cathedral told me the Lord sees our efforts to be perfect like our Father, though we stumble and fall--often.

And so as in today's psalm: 'Thus will I bless you while I live; lifting up my hands, I will call upon your name...You are my help, and in the shadow of your wings I shout for joy. My soul clings fast to you; your right hand upholds me.'

Grateful for a successful Camino de Santiago journey (save for a couple of blisters on my toes, the plantar fasciitis and knee tears held up), fellow pilgrims who are the kindest and most encouraging, sister and daughter who completed the walk with our party, rain and sunshine, delicious Galician food everywhere, home cooked food whenever possible, and the last 22 years, surviving the death of my husband, another cancer (in the other breast), ultra processed food and artificial everything, 2 Caminos (via French and Portuguese routes), counting daily on the Lord's steadfast love.

I echo my daughter's prayer yesterday, after she and I split driving duties between Santiago and Finisterre (encountering heavy rains, heavy fog, low visibility, slippery roads, and seeing absolutely none of the attractions save for the 0,000 marker): 'Salamat, Lord, buhay pa kami!'

'Cancer-versary'/Anniversary

It's my 21st 'cancer-versary', that day survivors consider their lives were changed forever by an unwelcome but confirmed diagnosis.

Earlier this week was supposed to be my 31st wedding anniversary, except that my husband died nine years ago. Still, remembering our civil wedding in Manila City Hall and our church wedding four years later brought me great joy. I realized even our children haven't heard the story. 

For the civil ceremony, we didn't have any photos. Neither we nor any of our 4 witnesses had a camera. The hubby said if it weren't for the signed contract, there would have been no evidence we were married. It was a weekday and after the ceremony, we and our witnesses all went back to work. The church wedding was a comedy of errors. Our neighbor offered to do the photography for free but he forgot about the date and woke up groggy from a night of carousing. All our photos ended up blurred (I actually tried to look for those photos today but I couldn't find them). Then, Philippine Airlines suffered a labor strike so the off-the-rack wedding dress my sister bought in US didn't arrive because her flight got delayed by a couple of days (I ended up borrowing a dress from my sister-in-law, who thankfully kept hers in a box as if never worn). Finally, the priest who wed us in San Antonio Parish in Antipolo (a sub-parish at that time) kept calling the groom 'Konrad' because his baptismal name was 'Norman Konrad'. We and all the guests kept laughing and wondering loudly if I was marrying Norman or Konrad. Toward the end, the priest caught on with all the chuckling and he asked why, what was funny---and he was told that Norman went by Norman and not Konrad... he smiled and corrected himself and pronounced us Norman and wife. Hilarious! We only had 12 guests (4 witnesses, our mothers and siblings, and their very young kids), we ate at home, our cake was choco mousse dedication cake from Red Ribbon, and our souvenir was a print-at-home bookmark (on cardboard) that contained a poem or some thank you note. 

Remembering my cancer-versary and my wedding anniversary (both in August) makes me ever grateful to the Lord for His graciousness and mercy. 

Every single day is a chance to experience His blessing and His love. Though there are days that bring us sadness or sometimes anger, the Lord is faithful in every way. He is there for us in our joys and sorrows--in our hearts and minds, and in the people that we meet, live with, and associate with day to day.

Venti

Venti is the size I prefer when I order drinks at Starbucks. Sometimes I even order 2 Venti drinks. 

Today I am venti, too. I celebrate 20 years since my first cancer diagnosis. And I am utterly grateful for all the favors Almighty God has, in His great mercy, granted me.

Last year, on this day, I arrived in Madrid, en route to start the 115-km walk from Sarria to Santiago de Compostela with family and friends. Today I went with two friends to the Padre Pio National Shrine in Batangas, and then to the Museo ni Miguel Malvar. 

Blessed by great weather, and a friend who agreed to drive so I could work in the car as we traveled, we were able to catch the 10 a.m. mass at the shrine, walk around the grounds and see the first class relics of Padre Pio. The Italian Capuchin bore on his hands, feet and side the stigmata, the wounds Jesus suffered on the cross. He brought many souls back to God.

We arrived at Malvar Museum at noontime and we thought it was closed. We took some pictures from outside and were about to leave when the guard, who was having lunch, ran after us to say the museum was open. We learned a good deal about our nation's history and the bravery of one of our heroes. Miguel Malvar was the last Philippine general to surrender to the American colonizers. He showed courage both in fighting (leading the remaining Philippine resistance when Emilio Aguinaldo was captured) and in surrendering (choosing to end the suffering of those tortured by the colonizers just to find him).

I thank the Lord always for these lovely, little excursions that make me look forward to more such days of learning and adventure. 

Twenty years is a long time to survive any dreaded disease. Every day, every step, every breath is a gift. When my knees swell and my back aches, I remember that so many die young (as my husband did)...aging is a gift not granted to all. 

And having gone this far, I know that death, when it comes, will also be a gift.

As I thank the Lord for venti, I look forward to venti more (or less), as the Lord wills. All glory to God!

8,000th

When I was 22, I buried my 72-year old dad. My older siblings were abroad and I had to take care of all the details—getting the death certificate, choosing the urn, and arranging the funeral, cremation and interment of the urn in a cemetery plot that my father himself owned. When I was 47, I buried my 48-year old husband. It was a replay of what I had done for my father, except I had to get a crypt in a columbarium for the inurnment. When I was 53, I buried my 90-year old mother. It was a replay of what I did for my husband, except that due to COVID pandemic protocols at the time, we could not even see my mom, nor accompany her to the crematorium.

Today, I mark my 8,000th day as a breast cancer survivor. I was first diagnosed at Stage 3C with 22 of 24 lymph nodes positive for malignancy. After going through a mastectomy, six cycles of chemotherapy and 28 days of radiotherapy, my cancer was found to have spread to my lymph nodes and bones. I underwent another six cycles of chemotherapy, which by God’s grace controlled the disease. I am forever grateful to all those who donated to my treatment fund---more than a hundred benefactors (relatives, friends, friends of friends, classmates, workmates and even acquaintances)---I would not have survived without their generosity. I do pray for them daily.

Seventeen years later, with my husband gone, I was diagnosed again with cancer on the other breast. I had another mastectomy and because it was Stage Zero, no further treatment was recommended.

I recall the loved ones I have buried on this 8,000^th day of life after my first diagnosis because I marvel at God’s mercy and graciousness toward me. I have lost two breasts, my husband, my mother, and my father—but I live…every so often in deep grief, but more frequently with immense gratitude for the blessing of each new day.

I feel no guilt when I eat chocolate cake or turtle pie, gulp down a homemade chocolate ice cream float or triple chocolate gelato, enjoy churros with thick, hot chocolate, or even a nice tub of taho with lots of syrup and sago. I relish my favorite treats knowing these can all go away in an instant. If I die, at least I shall have tasted heaven on earth. If I get an illness which will require me to give up my sweet joys, at least I shall have known such gustatory pleasures.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But recognizing each day as a miracle makes me utterly grateful for still being alive, bad grass that I am. I have practically forgotten my birthday, but I have always greeted each morning with “Thank You, Lord, for this new day.” I thank the Lord for the 8,000 chances He has given me---totally undeserved. I have received graces and blessings beyond what I could even begin to imagine. Almighty God has indeed shown me so much mercy and unconditional love.

My hope is in the Lord. May His will be done in my life. The Lord gives, the Lord takes away. Blessed be the Name of the Lord.

 

19

On this day, 19 years ago, I was diagnosed with advanced breast cancer. After 7 months of treatment, it was found to have spread to my bone and lymph nodes (total of 6 sites). I used my 13th month pay at the time to buy a cemetery plot. 

What followed was another 9 months of treatment, funded by over a hundred donors who wanted to give me a fighting chance to beat the odds.

Just before my 12th year as a survivor and after almost 22 years of marriage, my beloved passed on to eternal bliss. He still saw our son graduate from college. Our daughter, though, had just entered her freshman year. 

Two years ago, at the height of the pandemic, I was diagnosed again with cancer on the remaining breast. The hospital only allowed one COVID-negative companion for each surgery patient. My daughter, by then already working after earning her bachelor's degree summa cum laude, took care of me. Five months after my surgery, she left for Spain. And I have not seen her since.

Today, as I mark my cancer-versary, I am a bullet-train ride away from her. My son and his fiancée travel with me, as well as two friends who wish to make a pilgrimage with me.

We, plus five other pilgrims, will be walking to Camino de Santiago from Sarria, full of gratitude for God's singular favors. 

I had prepared to leave this earth early on in my cancer journey, but God's mercy prevails to this day. The Good Lord wills me more opportunities to love, to serve, and to share the miracle of being in His care--in sickness/health, in sorrow/joy, in life/death...I give praise and thanks for every breath, for every step and misstep, indeed for every single day my guardian Angel wakes me... All glory to God!

Debut

I am a debutante again today. It has been 18 years since I was first diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer. Indeed it is a great blessing to be alive and kicking--or should I say, walking. I celebrated by walking this morning, even if it isn't the weekend yet (the usual days for my walks). 

I have been feeling low this whole month of August. It was the late hubby's birth anniversary and of course, I could not help but miss him all the more. When he was alive, we'd forget his birthday often, on a regular basis even. But now that he is gone, we don't forget his birthday anymore. Why is that? 

Then there was news of celebrities falling to cancer (like ICANSERVE Foundation volunteer Cherie Gil and Asia's fastest woman, Lydia de Vega Mercado), and also two friends (the wife of a former colleague and a former co-worker in media). There was just a lot of sadder news on top of already sad news. 

And I haven't even recovered from my mom's demise a few months ago, on the very first day of the Year of the Tiger... what a ferocious Tiger Year it has been so far. 

I console myself with the thought that they have already accomplished their mission, and have no unfinished business on this earth... but still I grieve... and feel empty, like my heart was stolen and don't know when it will be restored.

The guilt survivors feel for surviving can eat one up from the inside. It makes you feel sorry for living when others were not so fortunate. It makes you want to exchange places with the deceased. I have felt this way many times, over and over, in the last 18 years... as sister after sister succumbed to our shared disease... most especially when my husband passed on... and recently, with even more sisters losing the battle.

May the Lord God Almighty, who breathes His Spirit into me each moment of my life, bring me to accept realities I cannot change. I do count on His strength to power me through these days and nights. 

It is really my hope in Him that keeps me going. I hope I am doing what I am supposed to be doing according to His Will. I hope the joys I find on this earth will fill me not with guilt but with peace, acknowledging always God's great mercy. And I hope I am making good use of the time He has given me---like the last 18 years. 

Though sometimes I can't help it, I really shouldn't feel guilty. Everything, every day, every hour is a gift, truly undeserved and hence, most definitely a gift. All praise, honor and thanksgiving be to God Almighty, generous Giver of gifts, our Hope and Salvation. 

Breast-less

Today is the 17th year since I lost a breast to cancer. But then again, I was born with two. So this year, just last April, I lost the remaining one also to breast cancer. 

What is most amazing is that after this second mastectomy, no further treatment was needed because the cancer was caught early. This was the opposite of what I had to go through 17 years ago, when I was diagnosed at such an advanced stage of the disease that it required the most aggressive treatment the body could take.

Living with cancer is a journey filled with joys and sorrows. I have seen many fellow travelers succumb to cancer; and during this almost two-year old pandemic, I have seen many more fall to COVID-19. At the same time, we get to celebrate healing, favorable test results and family milestones we never thought we would reach.

I give thanks and praise to God Almighty, most merciful, most compassionate and most generous, for the gift of this journey. I know that to wake up in the morning is a miracle in itself... and I am ever grateful. 

Last month, I started walking because I joined a virtual race for which I had to log 45 kilometers. I didn't think I could make it because it just rained and rained that last week of July. I started walking with an umbrella just to finish. Then this month, I joined another one. And even after I had finished the required 40 kilometers for this month's virtual race, I have just kept on walking during the weekends. 

It's my Guardian Angel who wakes me up early enough so I could walk--sometimes three kilometers, sometimes four or even seven. I wonder now why I walk, in the same way I have often wondered why I am still alive. But I don't waste the effort, I use the time to pray, to count my blessings, to give thanks to the Lord. 

I give thanks for the new day, for the energy and strength to walk, for the good health and safety of the family, for son's promotion, for daughter's new job, for mother's baptism and confirmation (earlier this year) in the faith in which she and my late father raised their children, for family and friends and loved ones who have walked this unpredictable journey (uphill, downhill and sideways) with our little family. 

With each step I grow breathless, literally because of the exertion of walking, but more so because of the recognition of how much the Lord has shown undeserved favor on this breast-less creature still journeying the winding paths of this earth. 

 

Sweet sixteen

Today is my 16th cancer-versary. 

I missed writing a note last year because I was attending the Southeast Asia Breast Cancer Symposium in Bangkok that day I turned 15. My fellow delegates from ICANSERVE Foundation surprised me with a post-dinner celebration at one of the gazillion malls we trekked. I felt so humbled to be in the company of such strong, dedicated women, so willing to serve others with their time, talent and treasure. 

Throughout these 16 years, I have wondered what God's purpose was for waking me each morning. I've always wondered about any unfinished business. What am I forgetting (again)? Why has God not called me home? What am I missing?

I am extremely grateful for each new day. I know every breath represents God's great mercy toward me. As God's wisdom is beyond any human understanding, I can only trust that I still have things to do on this earth for His greater glory. 

A friend reminded me that it is the dream of cancer survivors to grow old. 

Sixteen may be sweet, but may not be old enough.

Struggle

Every year on this day, I write a note in remembrance of my cancer diagnosis. Every year on this day, I relive those agonizing moments when I woke up from surgery missing a breast, wondering what the future would be like, or if I had one to look forward to.

For all my forgetfulness, every year on this day, everything seems so clear to me--as if everything just happened yesterday: maxing out my health card budget for the year; friends visiting and proposing to help; donations pouring in for my treatment; going bald (from chemotherapy), getting burned (from radiotherapy), and getting a second diagnosis (cancer had spread); going back to school while preparing for what were supposed to be my last days; eventually living through the first year and completing treatment (oral chemotherapy) after 15 months; making it through the second year, then finishing graduate studies; surviving the third year, then the fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, 10th, 11th, and then my husband passing away before I reached the 12th; trudging along the 13th, and then somehow getting to where I am now, the 14th.

Throughout these 14 years, I never felt bitter, nor angry, nor sad about having cancer. Rather, I felt surprised, awed and overjoyed with the miracle of each new day. I was grateful for each new chance be with family and friends, and happy to praise and worship God Almighty in word and deed.

Of course, things changed when the hubby went to heaven... I have been less grateful, less happy, less generous overall. I honestly have not been thinking straight. I'm like a car running on a quarter-tank of gasoline---still cruising, but not really sure if there'll be enough fuel to reach the nearest gas station.

The person I want to spend the rest of my life with is gone. Why do I still want to live? Or do I?

(pause for mass)

Every day the Lord speaks to me. Even when I don't hear mass, He speaks to me.

The gospel (Mt. 24:42-51) today says, "Stay awake! For you do not know on which day your Lord will come." I remember how the hubby's demise shocked just about everybody... but he was ready. He asked for a priest---and for a specific priest, too: a friend from of old. And he returned to the faith of his birth, his wife's answered prayer.

Today's priest (Fr. Ed) said in his homily, the Lord interjects (Himself) in our lives. He lives among us. For 22 years, my husband was the Lord at home. Every day he'd prepare my breakfast and lunch to go, cook my dinner, and give me a foot bath or massage before we turned in. He meant the world to me, so I worked doggedly for our present, and dreamed of our future together.

Every day has been a struggle without him. But today as I 'celebrate' 14 years as a cancer survivor, I honor my late hubby with a new resolve to be a "faithful and prudent servant whom the master  has put in charge of his household". I still don't cook nor wash nor sew---nor do any of those domestic duties he so very kindly attended to while he was alive. But I will "stay awake" by serving those Jesus put in my charge with love and humility.

Indeed, while I feel quite miserable, I recognize the Lord's great mercy upon me---giving me every chance to be ready, as my husband was when came his time. I should not ask why I want to live, or if I still want to live. For every day is a gift from heaven, undeserved but received with gladness (if we but be grateful).

I must learn to accept: In all things may the most holy, the most just, and the most lovable will of God be done, praised, and exalted above all for ever. Your will be done, O Lord, your will be done. The Lord has given, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord now and always.

And I also must repeat today's psalm: I will praise your name for ever, Lord.

Grateful

Today I am a teenager again, marking 13 years since being diagnosed with late-stage breast cancer. If my husband were alive, we’d be going to our neighborhood sari-sari for a Coke date. I would again be hearing him boast about his tactile abilities, having been the one who discovered my lump. He would again joke about volunteering to do clinical breast examinations at my doctor’s clinic, and then remember my doctor saying he could charge him with illegal practice of medicine.

It has been a difficult year and a half without the hubby, but my habits have saved me. Doing things just because I am so used to doing them has kept me going. I do not care why or wherefore, but I have kept doing them—often distracted (prayer), sometimes with errors (work), but never giving up (sleep). I have been told that what I am experiencing is natural for those who encounter loss, that it would take time, and that I still have a mission in this world while that of my husband was already accomplished.

In his first encyclical, Deus caritas est (God is Love), Benedict XVI wrote: “Hope is practiced through the virtue of patience, which continues to do good even in the face of apparent failure, and through the virtue of humility, which accepts God’s mystery and trusts him even at times of darkness.”  

Whenever I feel low, I count my blessings: Mama is doing well, fully recovered from her hospitalization and surgical procedure last month; son has work and is enjoying the advantages of earning his own keep, among them saving up for toys (for big boys); daughter is in third year, swamped by major subjects and almost drowning in an ocean of reading and writing assignments (she did save on matriculation this semester, thanks to the law mandating free tertiary education); bosses, colleagues and friends remain as supportive as ever.

Suddenly, I feel so unworthy… but at the same time, grateful.  

I thank God Almighty for so many blessings, especially for all the prayers and well wishes of family and friends.

And because of all these blessings, I can be patient, and humble.

Even as I grieve, I can hope.  

Maybe the lost soul can still be found.

Misadventures on a quite curious weekend

The weekend was ushered by a very lucky Friday, the 13th. It was payday

and that’s always lucky for the employed. Alas, the ATM in our building
manages to go offline on paydays, and it was no different. I was saved by
my daughter who had change from her enrollment money, having enrolled
only 15 units, instead of the usual 18. So we had cash for the weekend. At
least, our househelp would get paid.

On Saturday morn, I brought our very pregnant cat to the vet, she had a
cold the previous week and had been on antibiotics for a week. She still
had a cold and was given more antibiotics and Vitamin C in what turned
out to be a prenatal exam (she gave birth the next day).

On Saturday afternoon as we prepared to go to anticipated mass, I receive
a call on my cellphone from a certain Brando Pimentel looking for someone
with my first name, maiden name and last name. Finding out it was I, he
said not to be shocked but someone hired him to kill me and he had sent
four henchmen from Mindanao to my place. But he changed his mind
because the one who hired him wanted them to kill my entire family. He
said he would give me the cellphone as evidence of the messages of the
one who contracted him but I had to pay 45,000 pesos to send back his
men to Mindanao because they were already nearby. I said I didn’t have
that kind of money on hand. He said he just needed to send his men, who
are armed and dangerous, back to Mindanao and if I had 20,000 pesos,
that would do for now and we can discuss the rest later. I said 20,000 is
too much but if he waited for Monday, maybe I could borrow some money.
He asked how much I had on me and I said I had 3,000 in my wallet. He
said that was too little but that was fine for the moment. I had to deposit it
right away at Cebuana Lhuillier or Palawan Pawnshop. He would text me
the name and cellphone number of the one who will receive the money. 

So I proceeded with my afternoon, bathed and when I got out of the
bathroom, I had missed 6 of his calls and the text messages. One text
message was giving the name Laila E. Gomez, cellphone 0956 173 5711.
I was supposed to send the money to her. The next message was I had to
send money now so his men could leave my area. And the next one said
if I didn’t send the money, I couldn’t blame him anymore for whatever
happens to me.

So I replied to him (by text) first, “May the Lord forgive you.” Then I said I
was going out to deposit the money but my husband stopped me and told
me that we should not live in fear nor revenge (all in Tagalog), that if it was
our time, we should not avoid it. Rather, we should accept God’s gift of
peace. I also told him that my cellphone actually belonged to the office so
if anything did happen, somebody will know what happened. Finally, I said
I would not fight nor go to the police and that we accept his decision with
pleasure (ng malugod). He replied that he felt fear of God with my
message, and that I should not worry because he would help me even
without anything in return (pangako daw). After that I blocked his number
(0956 154 8361) and reported the incident to my friend who knows a few in
NBI. Just so there would be a record in case something does happen. 

The next day, Sunday, we had a very nice lunch with our badminton group
as four members jointly celebrated their birthdays--all January-born. It was
a fun and filling afternoon with lots of stories and camaraderie. And then
people left a couple at a time. But before we ourselves left, the host’s dog
bit my hand. It bled and I washed it with soap and running water, then
compressed to stop the bleeding, iced to stop the swelling, and took
Paracetamol. The dog just had his anti-rabies shot in November so we all
felt I’d be fine.

When I got home, around five hours after I was bit, my hand started feeling
numb and then my arm, and then the tip of and right side of my tongue. So
I told my children, I don’t think I will last until morning, we have to go to the
hospital, which praise God, was also an Animal Bite Center. The doctor told
me even if the dog had his shot, they still advise the full anti-rabies protocol
because the effectiveness of the anti-rabies shot if not done annually is just
70% so there is a fair (30%) chance I would be infected. So the dog is under
observation and if he survives, then I will only get 4 appointments instead
of 5. But on my first appointment, I had 6 needle pricks: one was a skin test
to make sure I was not allergic to the ERIG (equine rabies immunoglobulin).
The others were injections of full doses for anti-tetanus (ATS or anti-tetanus
serum and tetanus toxoid), anti-rabies (PVRV or purified vero cell rabies),
and 2 ERIG. They call this the post-exposure prophylaxis for rabies. “Strict
adherence to the WHO-recommended guidelines for optimal post-exposure
rabies prophylaxis virtually guarantees protection from the disease.”

Anyways, as I lay in the emergency room reeling from shots on my arm,
thighs and buttocks, I was saying thanks be to God: I thank the Lord that
it was I who was bit, and not any of my children. It was not enough that I
had Stage 4 cancer (2004 and 2005), had a 10-wheeler truck crash head-on
to my car (2013), and just last year, lost my gall bladder and then my
husband...I still had to suffer a dog bite. I was the first person ever bitten by
that dog, so now the owners know that he bites. We’ve known that dog for
years and we thought he was all bark and no bite. It had to be me... because
I have a high threshold for pain, I suffer with good humor (not that I am a
masochist, but I can chill even in adversity, which is kinda loony, but I can’t
help it, I was born that way), I don’t often get angry, I will never fight nor sue
(unless it involves my children), and I have medical coverage from our office
HMO (therefore, I can get treated at no cost to the dog’s owners). Entonces,
among all the guests last Sunday, who else would the dog choose? I was
the best choice of the lot---aside from being the plumpiest.

I document my very curious weekend for any lessons people may learn from
my rather painful misadventures. Always I lift to God my soul, that benefits
immensely from my practice with the pain and misfortune this life has to
offer. My husband (bless his soul) would not be the saint that he is today if
not for the purification of 22 years of marriage (and other forms of mortal
combat, as he himself would say). I look forward to more joys (I did spend
Christmas with my kids in Japan) and greater delights from Him who
befriends, directs and gives most generously to unprofitable servants like
myself.

To God be the glory.

Standstill

I was diagnosed with breast cancer on this day (August 30) 12 years ago.

Since then, family life had been about moving forward: completing treatments, finishing school (MBA), seeing the kids graduate (pre-school, elementary, high school, on to college), visiting friends and relatives (alive or dead), going to places we've never been, returning to places we love, undergoing annual laboratory tests, taking the cats to the vet, paying off debts (and incurring new ones), et cetera.

Five months ago, my world stood still. The hubby passed away after 18 days in the hospital (12 of them in intensive care). I am still trying to come to grips with this fact. Moving forward can only be done in slow motion---very slow motion.

Surviving a spouse is obviously very different from surviving a disease. I am grateful that God has willed for me to carry on, but all the more I feel unworthy. My husband watched his diet, exercised regularly and slept like a baby. He even taught the cats to eat only chicken and fish (no pork, and definitely no fat). My balanced diet is chocolate cake on one hand and hot chocolate on the other. Only recently (May 2016) have I been getting some exercise because of a Fitbit that my son gave me.

I have always accepted the wisdom of an old friend: "In the end it is just you and God." With my husband gone, it certainly feels like the end to me---yep, it's just me and God now: to look after the kids, feed the cats, fix the house, drive to work, shop, travel and dine.

Everything is a chore now. Done out of necessity, when it shouldn't be.

How do I move forward without love? Not the love of my late spouse with whom I shared 22 years of this life. Not the love of God to whom I am grateful for His great mercy. Not the love of my children who pardon and make up for their mother's failings. Not the love of relatives and friends who reach out and let me know daily that I am not alone.

I believe I have lost the love inside me that I used to give freely, for no reason.

Until I find it, I am all out... of hope, of joy, of peace.

Love is given freely

On our recent anniversary, my husband posted this statement on his Facebook page: “For some reason, my wife chose to love me.”

Frankly, there is no reason. I just choose to love my husband every day. It is perhaps my way of imitating Almighty God, who loves me…for no reason. I am surely unworthy of His favor, but He wakes me up every morning, and fills my day with miracles of kindness and opportunity and friendship.  For this grace, and many more, I have learned to love as I have been loved: having no conscious reason for doing so, but choosing to love my husband, my children, my community, my country—as freely as God loved me.

Love is a gift. We love without expecting anything in return. We just want the objects of our affection to be happy. They don’t have to gift us with chocolates, high grades or praise. They don’t even have to love us back. That, I believe, is love given freely—for no reason.

Today, my 11th year anniversary as a cancer survivor, I celebrate the love I have received from over a hundred benefactors, family and friends, who came to my aid at my time of need. They helped without expecting anything in return. They helped and showed their love—for no reason—except perhaps to follow the example of Jesus. Surely, I will never be able to pay them back. I rejoice in their favor all the more, for I am unworthy, but they gave of themselves that I may complete my treatments and live.

By God’s mercy, I survived more than a year of treatment—from August 30, 2004 to November 30, 2005—for Stage 4 breast cancer (it had spread to my bone and lymph nodes). The kids, then aged 9 and 5, are now in college (one in 5th year and one in 1st year). We have since traveled together as a family, seeing sights and even visiting relatives thousands of miles away. We have had our share of challenges, among them bouts with flu, dengue and diabetes (for the hubby), and the occasional vehicular accidents that shock us and remind us what life on earth is all about.

It has been 11 years, and we continue to pray together for perfect health and constant safety. We trust that God Almighty, who chooses to love our family, despite there being no justifiable reason to do so, will continue to have mercy on us, and grant us as much time as we need to learn how to love as He does—freely—without reason, expectation, or fanfare.

Days to live for

I am going to a parenting seminar in my daughter's school this afternoon. I would like to think that such a seminar will not be a waste of time, even after 20 years of marriage and 19 years of parenthood. I am always eager to learn something new about myself and the world. And even if I don't learn anything new, I am always grateful for the chance to fulfill my duties as a mother to my children. These are days I live for.

Ten years have passed since my diagnosis for breast cancer. I look back with great awe at how much love our family has been given. By the grace of God and with the help of benefactors, we have reached this milestone. I remember every step with clarity: each chemotherapy cycle; each radiotherapy session; each donation received and acknowledged; each post and email accounting for treatment expenses. It took us over a year to complete the treatments, with faith and fortitude, and we prevailed.

I thank all my benefactors for the help you gave our family, not only at the time I was undergoing treatment, but throughout the years. Your kindness and good wishes have borne such sweet fruit. You have made it possible for our family to be whole. You have given me 10 full years (to-day) to be a wife (though forgetful), mother, daughter, sister and friend.

I no longer struggle to be worthy of your goodwill, for I realize your help was done out of love---a love I may not deserve but which you freely gave out of the goodness of your hearts. Thank you for giving me this time, the last 10 years and all the days and years following, to live in joyful thanksgiving.

I look forward to each day---boring or exciting, happy or sad, turbulent or peaceful, winning or losing---ready to live it to the full. These are all days to live for...because you have given them so generously to me.

Lucky nine

Today is my ninth year as a breast cancer survivor, having been diagnosed on this day in 2004.

It was a roller-coaster ride through over one year of treatment that ended in November 2005, after a Stage 4 (metastatic) diagnosis. I prepared for the worst and hoped for the best, strengthened by the genuine love shown by family, friends, donors and supporters.

My children, then aged 9 and 5, are now aged 18 and 14, and by the grace of God, well recovered from the experience of ‘almost losing’ one parent.

God’s mercies have been great and plentiful. Blessings have poured constantly and abundantly. Illness was followed by healing. And I received a generous share of graduations, birthdays, baptisms, travels, musical/theatrical performances, work, love and laughter, together with a fair share of accidents, deaths, wounds, failure, disappointment, and intrigue.

A priest once said that life’s highs and lows are the only concrete “proof of life”. For when we stop having problems or stop trying to solve them, it probably means we are already six feet under. He advised us to embrace challenges, sickness, even death, as these are the platforms on which we can triumph, be well, and truly live.

So today, I pray for the fortitude to weather challenges, sickness and death, that I may experience triumph, wellness, and life as does please the Lord Almighty.

I pray for my donors, whose selflessness and generosity enabled me to complete my treatment, and for my supporters, whose unceasing prayers have allowed me to make it this far in the journey. May you all be blessed with perfect health and constant safety, as does please the Lord Almighty. You are my angels remembered in prayer daily and with utmost gratitude for all time.

Thank you for making today not only a lucky, but a truly blessed nine.

Ready when heaven is

Today marks my eighth year as a breast cancer survivor.

I live aware that each moment is a blessing, and am utterly grateful for the time the Lord has given.

Each day has been nothing short of a miracle for me. Each day has been a welcome gift, to relish the love of family and friends who are truly angels here on earth.

In the beginning, as I expected death to come quickly, I wondered why God would still wake me each morn. Over the years, as I saw some of my fellows pass on, I wondered why God had called them home, and not me. Today, as I look back at the great blessing of eight years, I still wonder: is it I who am not ready for heaven, or is it heaven that is not yet ready for me?

And while waiting for the time when we (heaven and I) are finally ready for each other, I try my very best to raise children with well-formed consciences, to help my neighbor whenever I can, to work with excellence, and to love without condition.

I give thanks and praise to God Almighty, whose love and mercy sustain me daily.

Mother Delia Tetreault shared her mission of living a life of joyful thanksgiving. I have found that living this mission brings us closer to achieving our full potential as individuals. This is because a genuinely grateful heart wants always to please its Maker.

In God’s perfect time, I will be ready for heaven, and heaven will be ready for me.

All for love

Seven years ago, I lost one breast to late stage cancer.

What followed has been a miraculous journey in which whole families, relatives (including in-laws), friends and amazingly, friends of friends pitched in to extend what they kindly deemed to be a life worth saving.

Through www.ourownlittleway.org, enough funds were raised to cover chemotherapy (total of 12 cycles), radiotherapy (28 days) and acupuncture (weekly) over 16 months of treatment. I have not needed any further treatment since November 2005, when I completed my last cycle of chemotherapy after the cancer was found to have spread to my bone and lymph nodes.

I have seen my children grow much and well in seven years. My then 4^th grader is now in 1^st year college. My then pre-schooler is now in 1^st year high school.

It is indeed a great blessing to be loved and to know so. I am forever grateful to all those who donated to my treatment fund, for generously giving of themselves to allow me to spend the last seven years together with my little family. I pray for all my donors daily, that the Lord abundantly bless them as they continue to help those who like me, trust solely in God’s providence to prevail against overwhelming challenges.

If not for the love my donors have shown, my children will be growing up motherless, and very likely apart. I pray I will be a good parent, to teach them by example the values of kindness, generosity, and love. Most of all, to have faith in the Almighty who has given us blessing upon blessing—because He loves us so.

I have seen death claim so many among those diagnosed at the same time as or even later than I was. And I am not afraid to follow suit…sooner or later we all have to leave this earth. But while the Lord continues to wake me every morning, I pray to live as He did when He walked this earth: All for love.

Celebrations

In January of this year, our first-born turned 16 and later in the month sought permission to court a girl he met in school. A graduating high school senior, the hubby and I thought it was okay and saw our son pursue his beloved. He had to court her friends, then her parents, and finally, she who said yes. Celebrate!

In March, our second-born sent me an email, just before she turned 12, saying how anxious she was about her coming graduation from elementary school. With her Kuya going to college, she would be all alone now in school, in the school bus, in the tricycle, going to Kumon. I replied to her email, expressing full confidence that she would be able to make it on her own, simply because circumstances require it. But if she ever felt scared or uncertain, she still had her parents for back-up (in the absence of her Kuya). She felt much better after the assurance she received from us. Celebrate!

This week, I had my annual PET-CT scan to check for recurrence of my metastatic (Stage 4) breast cancer. It took them three attempts to find a good, patent vein for the test. This is quite usual for me, even for simple blood tests. For the first time, I had a reaction to the dye used for CT scan contrast. There was no reaction to the initial test dose. But after the full dose was given, my face felt so itchy and I was told my face was really red. I could imagine rashes covering my face, but there was no mirror for me to see. The doctor immediately ordered an injection of one vial of antihistamine. That shot was painful going into the intravenous line. I was in tears but I knew the doc was saving me from more trouble. The antihistamine would prevent the allergic reaction from progressing into more serious symptoms such as difficulty breathing (should my throat swell), cramping or a drop in blood pressure.

In any case, the diagnostic test was completed and the results were most favorable: “No definite evidence of intensely hypermetabolic disease to suspect recurrence.” Celebrate!

Next week, we look forward to more celebrating as the kids graduate on the same day, one from high school and one from elementary. With these parenting milestones we are marking, we give thanks to our most generous and merciful God, who has showered upon us such grace. Since I was diagnosed in 2004, God has given our family 2,931 days together—each one as precious a miracle as the next. We are always mindful of these ‘extensions’ on our time together, and do not take anything for granted. We know only too well how any one of us can be ‘recalled’ at any time. So we try to live and love each day as if it were our last. Celebrate!

Just before March ends, my mom will turn 80 years old. I don’t have to imagine how I’d look at age 80, I already look like her right now. Growing up, my mom was rather hands-off. She didn’t cook for us, she didn’t bathe us, she never carried us for very long for fear she’d drop us. She just let us be. So I became much closer to my dad. But after he died, I realized I only had one parent left. I learned to appreciate my mom better, and understood the qualities I inherited from her: academic intelligence, pride in our work, obesity, and clumsiness, among others. Papa was 72 when he died. Mama looks like she’ll make it to 102…and more. Celebrate!

In all these celebrations, we give thanks and praise to God Almighty, who in this life is our strength and our end.

Register now (until March 31) for New Balance Raising Hope on April 9

On April 9, 2011, run to raise hope for cancer patients and cancer awareness in Dasmarinas Village, Makati City.

New Balance has again chosen ICanServe Foundation among its beneficiaries for the New Balance Raising Hope run. Co-beneficiaries of ICanServe Foundation are The Carewell Community (The Cancer Resource and Wellness Community) and NGF (Natasha Goulbourn Foundation).

Register until March 31 for the 3k-fun run (P400), the 5k-run (P600) and the 10k-run (P600). Runners for 5k and 10k will receive singlets (unisex, free size).

To help ICanServe Foundation, please register with Daphne Ramos in Ortigas Center (landline 636 5578 or mobile 0916 445 8580).

To help The Carewell Community, contact Jane Beate in Makati (landline 815 1294); and to help NGF, contact Margie Laciste in Makati (landline 897 2217).

Claim stub given upon registration must be used to claim the singlets (for 5k and 10k only), which will be available beginning March 25 from the same organization/foundation with which you registered.